


Relapse

by mysteriousmice



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Purgatory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-07
Updated: 2012-11-07
Packaged: 2017-11-18 04:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/557118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysteriousmice/pseuds/mysteriousmice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It feels as though he hasn't slept in years.<br/>Dean's search for Cas in purgatory.<br/>Aiming for around 3 chapters in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relapse

-  
 _Where is he?_  
Leaves underfoot. Blood. Whispers. A knife.  
 _Tell me._  
Trees scraping the sky. Fog. Breaths are rushed, dry grass and dirt. Cold wind in his face.  
 _Now._  
His lips are chapped and he can feel the pulse just underneath their skin. Too much biting. Too much worrying. Blood and dirt are under his fingernails and it's okay, and the rusty brown clinging to his forehead from brawling day and night is unnoticed. It doesn't matter.  
Nothing matters more than the angel.  
His angel.  
 _Cas._  
The sound of feathers scratching against the cold breeze. He had left. Cold red eyes glared from the corners of the forest. Swallow.  
His feet are blistered up, where his heel and his toe rubbed wrong against the shoe. No time to tend to them. No time.  
Time doesn't exist. Clocks exist, not time.  
–  
 _Dear Castiel,_  
Dean knows Benny is listening when he prays. He can hear the second pair of footsteps. Followed just beyond the fire's reach. Never completely obscured from view.  
 _You are all that is keeping me alive._  
Fists curl. Drops to his knees. He doesn't have faith, not in anyone but Cas.  
 _I'm begging you, please, just come back. I need you._  
Throat is sore. Mangled sobbing. It doesn't matter that Benny is there. Nothing really matters any more except for this.  
 _Give me a sign that you can hear me, anything, please._  
Words come out raspy.  
 _I love you, you goddamn sonuvabitch._  
Leaves crumbling. Feet retreating. Benny leaves him to take it in. Doesn't ask in the mornings, never has. It's sort of relieving, but..  
But Sam would have asked.  
no.  
try not to  
no,,  
no nNO NOO NO NONO Nnno no no...  
no sam  
no..  
–  
Blood, everywhere. Hands, chest, face. Like always.  
The wheel turns. Nothing changes. Everything is the same.  
The thing is chained to the tree.  
Dean stops paying attention.  
Doesn't care what he's torturing. Doesn't matter. Only the angel does.  
 _Oh, he knows._  
Benny is sceptical. Doubt hangs in the air as if its jumped from a bridge with a noose around its neck.  
Answers come in-- what was that thing again? Dean swears it starts with a T. No matter. The answers come. Directions rattled off, a quick stab.  
They start to search.  
–  
 _So this Castiel guy just up and left?_  
Leaves and twigs crunching. Dean isn't really listening. Heard this speech before.  
Nothing changes, nothing matters.  
 _He's not worth your time if he would abandon you like that._  
He's worth it. He's worth the world. All Dean has to live for. Worry about.  
 _How can you call him your friend if he won't answer your prayers?_  
Love is a vicious motivator.  
Dean looks at his clothes. Blood cakes them. Vicious is by far the most accurate word to describe it.  
 _We should just leave without him._  
NO,  
NEVER.  
Never.  
never.  
He wouldn't dare.  
–  
At first he just stares.  
Relief, maybe. When you find what you've been looking for. Not damaged upon first glance.  
The finish-line's ribbon.  
Presents on Christmas day.  
Sweet kiss after a hard day at work.  
Angel in a dirty trench coat.  
 _Castiel._  
Wants to run. Wants to dash forward and hug, kiss, embrace, hell, even strip him down and....  
But Benny.  
Benny is there.  
Nothing over a hug.  
And maybe a brush of a hand over a cheek.  
 _Cas._  
–  
Dean convinces Benny to take the night off, to sleep while they watch for the night.  
He's sceptical, but he's never been anything else when it comes to the angel.  
An orange glow is cast across his face. Soft lips in the light of the fire.  
“Dean?”  
Eyes, blue and soft in light but dark by moonlight.  
“Yeah?”  
“The things you said, the prayers you made...”  
 _I love you._  
He wants to wait. Save this moment, for a night in a motel with some wine and a bed.  
“...I heard all of them.”  
 _I want you so bad, Cas._  
Tongue goes numb. Pulse. Shaky. Hasn't been like this before, not this jumpy over someone he loves, not since middle school.  
Any words that may have escaped are dried up.  
Mouth is the desert.  
Face hot like the sun.  
Arms reach around and pulls him close and warmth envelops him, like a blanket.  
Maybe it's a pair of wings, wrapped around him, an invisible cloak shielding him from cold.  
Wish he could see them.  
Probably magnificent.  
“It's okay, Dean.”  
Dean takes it in for a moment, trying to stay calm, stay unbroken.  
But he shudders and his knees buckle as the tears force themselves from his eyes.  
Trenchcoat in his face. God, that coat.  
Cas brings him down towards the ground and Dean lets his hands trace shaky circles on his back as he weeps.  
Purgatory hurts. Don't want to show it. But its harder than it looks.


End file.
